Blind Faith
by Gun Brooke
Summary: Trust doesn't come easily to Miranda Priestly. Going away for a weekend with Andrea and allowing her to take charge—surely that has got to be a mistake?


**A/N:** If you recognize this story, you're not wrong. I wrote this as an original piece for an author challenge in September 2006 and it's been hiding on my web site ever since. This story, pretty much a PWP, lent itself well to MirAndy, I think. Since a few of you thought this approach worked, (MirAndyfying original stories) I figured, why not? I hope you enjoy!

Blind Faith

A MirAndy short story by

Gun Brooke

The blindfold wasn't too tight, but firm enough to block Miranda's vision completely. She reached out a hand before her, uncertain, out of breath, and more nervous than she'd ever admit. "Andrea?"

"I'm here. Stand still," Andrea's voice to her right replied. "Trust me."

_Trust her?_ Miranda swallowed and straightened up. She had been in this—was it even a relationship?—this _thing _with Andrea for two months and Miranda wasn't a person who trusted easily. Known more for being stern, private, and terror-inspiring when it came to the people around her, her experience with new potential love interests, this situation left her flailing. Despite the misgivings on Miranda's part, Andrea had made it abundantly clear she was not going away. It was as if this woman, twenty-five years her junior, who spent her days as a news reporter for the Mirror was completely focused on surprising Miranda and keeping her guessing.

"Andrea?" Miranda fumbled to her right but found nothing. She didn't dare take a step in Andrea's direction since she had no sense of direction and feared she'd stumble into the low granite coffee table she knew was there. Or worse, into the fireplace . The crackling and the heat told her it was in front of her somewhere. Why had she agreed to join Andrea at a Vermont winter getaway?

"Dig deep for the trust, gorgeous, and remain where you are." Andrea's voice, husky and smooth as honey on a hot pancake, poured over Miranda's nerve endings. "You're safe. You know that."

Intellectually, Miranda acknowledged this was true. Of course it was. Emotionally, however, she had to seek into the recesses of her soul for courage not to reach up and remove the Hermès scarf. Part of her wanted to tear it off, rip it away so she could see where Andrea was and what she was doing.

"You're fine. There. Feel me?" Andrea had moved closer and gentle hands cupped Miranda's elbows before sliding up her arms, skimmed over her shoulder and reached her neck. Gently, Andrea began unbuttoning Miranda's white silk shirt and pushed it off, half way down her arms.

It took Miranda a few seconds to realize that Andrea had raised the stakes, and the thrill stemming from the uncertainty expanded as well. "Oh." Miranda bit down on the involuntary moan that wanted to break free.

"Your skin is like creamy satin." Andrea's breath caressed Miranda's neck.

Tipping her head back, Miranda swayed, a little disoriented, not quite sure about directions, even what was up and down.

"Hey, you better hold on to me. There." Andrea tugged off the shirt and placed Miranda's hands on her own hips. "Better?"

"Better." Miranda inhaled the scent of faint musk and something dark and sweet. It reminded her of something, dark chocolate, roses, or perhaps cognac after hot espresso. The scent ignited her taste buds, and she swallowed again before licking her lips.

"You sexy woman, you. Beautiful." Andrea's whisper against Miranda's lips was not warning enough. When Andrea leaned in to kiss her, Miranda's moan finally broke free from its restraints and Andrea captured it in her mouth as she closed the distance. Tongues met and explored, without force or insistence. The touches were still light, but also without hesitation. Miranda, more grounded and sure of herself when she held on to Andrea, bit lightly down on Andrea's lower lip and tugged at it. She was rewarded by Andrea's low groan, and when Miranda ran her tongue along it in a soothing pattern, Andrea's hands slid over her back and ended up around her waist.

It was wonderful to be held tighter, body to body, if only for a few seconds. This time, Andrea let go completely again, and stepped away out of reach.

"Please, Andrea," Miranda said, out of breath and now back where she started with the only difference that she was now so incredibly turned on. Her skin hot and sensitive ached for Andrea's touch. "Darling, please."

Long seconds ticked by and Miranda's body tensed as she listened for Andrea. The soft, deep carpet muffled any sounds that might give her lover's position away. When soft hands touched her hair from behind, she jerked, but was relieved to have firm contact no matter how.

"You have the most gorgeous, white hair," Andrea murmured as she raked her fingers through Miranda's iconic hair. Thick and brilliantly cut, it automatically reshaped itself into the hairdo she had worn ever since she began to turn white. Andrea's hands didn't stop at messing her hair up. They moved down her back and unhooked Miranda's bra, which sent more shivers through her.

"Touch me," Miranda begged, too turned on to be embarrassed at her needy tone. "I'm going crazy, Andrea."

"I know you are. I know. Just think of how beautiful it will be when we take care of that. I swear, robbing you of your sight like this will only make it so much better. Trust me…" Gentle kisses rained down the back of Miranda's neck and across her shoulders. It was as if Andrea was mapping her skin, memorizing each erogenous zone. "You taste so good. God, you're wonderful—absolutely—stunning." Andrea's staccato tone revealed her desire and Miranda hoped this would mean they'd act on their feelings soon.

"Why don't you take two steps to your right and four steps forward? I'll be right behind you, keeping you safe."

Miranda obliged, her legs trembling. Feeling in front of her, she found the dining room table, which she knew was to the left of the fireplace. The chairs were removed and Andrea gently nudged her to stand closer to the table.

"Place your palms where they are. That's it, flat against the table." Andrea unbuttoned Miranda's skirt and pulled the zipper down, maddeningly slow. "Such pretty stockings. Black lace looks amazing on you." The skirt slipped down, pooling around Miranda's feet. Her lace panties were next. Andrea slid them down, just as slowly, and nudged Miranda when they joined the skirt on the floor. "Step out of these. Good."

Naked now, apart from the stockings, Miranda was trembling despite the heat from the fire place.

"Time for the next phase, gorgeous." Andrea nudged a knee in between Miranda's legs. "Spread your legs for me. Come on."

Miranda whimpered as she obeyed, but she felt increasingly safe, strangely enough, the more their tangible lust and arousal escalated. "I'm so hot."

"Oh, you've got that right. You're smokin' hot, even." There was a smile in Andrea's voice, and it made Miranda reciprocate. "Now, feel there. I've put a fleece blanket on the table and down across the edge. Bend over. Lie down on top of it."

Shaking now, and with a dark, hot sense of weight between her legs launching arrows of pure and utter lust, Miranda followed Andrea's instructions and bent over. The table was the right height for her, and she grabbed two fistfuls of the soft fabric of the blanket. Andrea's hands were on her bottom, massaging now, pulling Miranda's cheeks apart, only to press them tight together, repeatedly.

"So sexy, so beautiful, and tonight you're all mine, aren't you?" Andrea spoke in interrupted, short bursts. Her hands slid down Miranda's thighs; creating goose-bumps as they moved to the inside and trailed the skin all the way up to her swollen sex. Almost touching the slick folds, Andrea stopped and seemed to hold her breath for a moment. "You have to tell me," she whispered.

"What? What do you want me to tell you?" Miranda frowned, confused.

"You have to let me know that you want this, want me, to make love to you like this. I will go no further unless you tell me to."

The words, uttered with such softness, almost made Miranda's knees buckle. "Yes, yes, take me. I need you to take me, Andrea. Please."

"I didn't mean you had to beg," Andrea answered and pulled Miranda's hips back with a gentle pull.

To Miranda's surprise, Andrea was naked from the waist down. She felt Andrea's neatly trimmed pubic hair against her bottom, and the inner image of the two of them together made her cling harder to the blanket. She could easily envision the beauty of the woman holding onto her. Curvy, yet slender, long chocolate brown hair and brandy eyes, and that _smile_…

So sure she was in the hands of the most incredible, tender, passionate woman she'd ever met, Miranda acted on impulse. She reached back with hands cold from the suspense of the vulnerable position and spread herself wider for her lover. "Take me, Andrea."

"Oh, god. Miranda." The startled tone in Andrea's voice hit Miranda like a fire storm.

Groaning, unable to communicate in any intelligible manner, Miranda pressed back against Andrea. "Please, oh, please, please, please…"

Eager fingers, accompanied by Andrea's gasps, found the hot wetness between Miranda's legs. There was no hesitation, but all the more tenderness, in the way Andrea filled her, pushing her fingers inside. Miranda moaned out loud and arched her back, small sparks igniting inside her, growing witch each passing second. The sparks turned into flames, licking along her skin and permeating her soul. Miranda greedily inhaled new air and let it out in another deep moan. The fact she was deprived of one of her senses seemed to heighten the other four. Andrea's scent engulfed her, and Miranda loved how she was being thoroughly taken by the woman she'd come to adore. Andrea added more fingers to the love-making; even pressing her thumb to Miranda's other puckered opening.

Miranda gave a short cry, stunned at how this caress against sexually uncharted territory nearly made her come on the spot. The feeling of the bold fingers now entering with increased vigor, using her abundant wetness as the only lubrication needed to claim her, sent the flames soaring to new levels. It was as if her inside turned to lava, melting into every vein in every limb, making her heart pound so fast it was hard to breathe.

"You're so sexy, so damn beautiful," Andrea whispered huskily as she leaned along Miranda's back. "I knew you were ready for this. You just had to trust me…you do trust me, don't you?"

"Yes, oh, yes." Miranda's hips moved on their own, meeting every new thrust of Andrea's fingers. "I trust you. I do. I do!" Her voice rose into a wail before breaking into dry sobs as the orgasm lurked at the horizon. "Andrea… Andrea…"

"I hear you. I've got you, gorgeous." Andrea's lips moved along Miranda's sweaty temple and bit gently down on her earlobe. "Give in." Another nibble. "Let go."

The lava stream had now flooded Miranda's entire body. She was going to self-combust, and was only able to draw quick, shallow breaths. When Andrea finally slid her lips down to the back of Miranda's neck and let her tongue run along the top of her spine, the dams broke. Miranda cried out again as the orgasm tore through her, leveling every single thought and stole her words. The room seemed depleted of oxygen the fire around and inside her devoured it all.

"There. Let it all come, Miranda. I won't let go."

"Ever?" Miranda managed between the convulsions, bucking and clinging to the blanket.

"_Ever_." The word, solid and calm, despite Andrea's own desire, became the final outlet for the massive orgasm. It reduced to a trickle rather than a river, and Miranda began to find her bearings where she lay slumped under Andrea's trembling body.

"Mmm. How about you?" Miranda managed after a little while.

"I can wait…"

It didn't sound convincing. Andrea's fingers were still buried inside Miranda, preventing her from turning around, and the blindfold was in place. "Did you come?" Miranda asked tenderly.

"Eh, not yet. Not important right now." Andrea sounded oddly self-conscious.

"If you let go of me, I can…"

"No."

"No?" The short word worried Miranda and she tried to raise a hand to remove the scarf over her eyes.

"Well, yes, but, eh, if you stay like that…" Andrea's voice faltered.

"Sure. And?"

"Move your hips. Rock against me."

Miranda was happy to oblige, despite the frustration of not being able to see or touch Andrea. Andrea straddled her left buttock, and now Miranda realized Andrea didn't have long to go, judging from the loud, prolonged moan she allowed.

"Like this?" Miranda asked and began a rocking, billowing motion that pushed her bottom against Andrea's sex.

"Yes!" Andrea gripped Miranda's hip hard with her free hand. "Oh, yes."

Miranda hadn't counted on the renewed effect of her movements, impaling her further on Andrea's fingers. When Andrea came, with a low groan that escalated into sobs as she pushed herself hard into Miranda; it sent a shudder through Miranda which in turn reignited her passion and flung her over another, smaller edge. The force of it sent them both to the floor in a jumble of arms, legs, and shivering bodies.

After a moment, when Andrea had withdrawn her fingers from Miranda and removed her blindfold, Miranda pulled her lover in for a long embrace. They remained on the floor after crawling the short distance to the pillows by the fireplace, where they exchanged lazy kisses and terms of endearment until the fire died out. Andrea reached over to the table and tugged at the fleece blanket, spreading it over them as they curled together up in the dark room.

"Bedroom?" Miranda asked and yawned.

"Uncomfortable here?"

"Not in the least."

Andrea kissed her forehead. "Then let's stay here."

"All right." Miranda returned the kiss, tenderly nuzzling Andrea's temple. "Darling, why were you shy all of a sudden?"

Andrea held her closer. "I…I guess, that it dawned on me, after you surrendered so willingly to me, I mean, I knew you had misgivings of sorts, and the gift you gave by letting yourself go…" Her voice trailed off for a moment. "I was so blown away, you know. It was like a revelation."

Tenderness nearly choking her, Miranda had to clear her throat twice. "And then?"

"And then you began to move in such a sexy, sultry way against me and all I could think of was how great you feel and how you turn me on. Actually, I've thought of you this way even before Paris." Andrea kissed her again.

"Really?" Miranda hadn't known. "That's almost a year ago."

"And you are worth waiting for; even if I'm glad I didn't have to wait much longer. Running into you, literally, outside Elias-Clarke during that protest picket-line drama was the best thing ever."

"In retrospect I agree." Miranda smiled at how she had found Andrea defending Runway and setting some facts straight—especially the fact nobody in the magazine wore real fur, as the protesters had taken for granted. It had been an education to watch Andrea eloquently give the most aggressive individuals a piece of her mind.

Letting go of that memory and returning to the present, Miranda determined she had never been this relaxed before. Somewhere in her exhausted brain, the thought of the trust issues stirred loudly enough to catch her attention. She buried her face into Andrea's neck. Was it the game? Was it the use of the blindfold that had helped her take that final step towards utter trust? All Miranda knew was how right it was, to fall asleep next to Andrea, also a habit she never indulged in with any previous lover.

Eventually sleep began to overcome her and a lazy, broad smile spread over Miranda's face. If sleeping next to Andrea felt _this_ good, how great wouldn't it be to wake up together in the morning?

END


End file.
